Fireworks
by TempestJo
Summary: In the little Archie storylines Jughead would always do anything for Betty and she would thank him with a kiss and baking. I do not watch the show, but I love Betty and Jughead. probably AU because of my lack of tv, this is a what if story about a Jughead who misses the kisses and a Betty who is a bit bored of being perfect.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you ever wonder why Jughead shows no interest in girls?" Someone asked.

There was the sound of milkshake sucking through the straw above him. He had no idea who asked the question, but he recognized the voice that answered, muffled though it was by the bleachers above his mid afternoon nap hideout.

"God no. Isn't it obvious? He can't have the girl he wants, so he doesn't want anyone." Joanie replied. Her companion gasped in surprise.

"The amount of love triangles in Riverdale is staggering really, but it's fairly simple to explain." Joanie continued. "There are guys like Archie, who think they are in love with whichever girl they are kissing at the time. There are guys like Reggie who know they love one person but will entertain themselves with others while they wait. Then there are guys like Jughead, who just don't bother to play the field and throw themselves into a hobby instead."

"Jughead has a hobby?"

"Well, food is his hobby I think. Or his crutch. It's only his metabolism that keeps him from severe health issues." Joanie conceded.

Jughead rolled his eyes and tried to go to back to sleep. Joanie was far too interested in psychology and anthropology these days. Always trying to put people in boxes. He had to admit she was observant though, much too much for his liking.

Joanie's companion snorted. "Well we can agree that he has a fast metabolism. I disagree with you on a few points in your statement though, for instance: Reggie only loves himself."

"Not true. Reggie is certainly full of himself, but he has shown time and time again that he is more than willing to destroy his pretty face just for a minute alone with Midge. Did you see his black eye last week? For someone as vain as Reggie to knowingly put himself into a situation where the only likely outcome is facial or bodily disfigurement courtesy of Moose , it must be love. Not that it will get him anywhere, but he keeps trying." Joanie pointed out.

"Ok, but what about Archie, Betty, and Veronica?" challenged her companion.

Joanie laughed. "And Cheryl? Valerie? That girl who was visiting Pop for the summer? Archie loves love. Veronica loves to be adored, and Betty..." she paused. "I can't quite figure out Betty. I think maybe she loves the idea of being with the boy next door, happily ever after, but I don't think she would actually enjoy the reality of that if there wasn't the excitement of her competition with Veronica for his attention. Betty has some interesting quirks. If she ever figures out that Jughead loves her there will be fireworks of the very best kind."

Jughead and the other girl both coughed in surprise, Jughead slapping his hand across his mouth to stop himself from being heard and discovered.

"Jughead loves Betty?!" The girl sounded shocked. "How can you be sure?"

"I watch people. It pays to be observant." Joanie said smugly. "Did you watch that documentary last night?"

The conversation moved on and soon shoes shifted and the bleachers creaked, the pair above standing up to go wait for their next class. Jughead waited for their voices to fade before sitting up and placing his head in his hands. It was only a matter of time before the whole school would know, but would they believe? What if they did? Not the end of the world, he could just laugh at them and steal their french fries to show them his one true love was food, but some would always wonder.

Realistically, he knew it would come out sometime. It was true after all, and the truth always comes out in the end, as Betty was fond of saying. It was also true that he would never make the first move. Archie was his friend, and so was Betty, and he would rather just have her friendship than not have any relationship with her at all. If Archie knew that he was interested in Betty he would stop inviting him to go to the beach with them, Archie preferred to not have competition for the attention of the girls..

It would be a tragedy if he wasn't invited to go with him. He liked watching her play in the sand, wiggling her toes into the sandcastles to watch them collapse in stages. Joanie was right about that too, he supposed. Betty, for all her apparent perfection, liked to create cracks in a facade and watch it come tumbling down. He had only seen flashes of it, but underneath her happy go lucky exterior, something a lot more fiery lurked.

The bell rang loudly, bringing him out of his quiet contemplation. Next class already, should he bother going? His nap had been disrupted after all, he could just lay back down and try to sleep some more. He sighed, and grabbed his backpack and hat and crawled out from under the bleachers. Who was he kidding? Sleep would elude him after what he had overheard, and besides, the next class was History and the teacher had promised they would be watching real WW2 footage in preparation for their next assignment. Popcorn was being provided.

LATER:

Betty paused typing, her fingers hovering above the keyboard. A thousand words on the downfall of the Ottoman Empire for tomorrow's History class. If the teacher thought it was good maybe she would include it in the paper next week, for a bit of filler. If only something interesting would happen, something exciting to do an editorial on. Though most people were only reading the gossip column now anyway, she mused. She could probably copy out the dictionary and very few would notice. The column was a stroke of genius though she had to admit, it got everyone buzzing, trying to figure out from veiled hints who each blurb was really about. Susan really had a gift with enticing people. She somehow managed to dig out secrets nobody had even thought to look for let alone discover.

She stood up and stretched, idly picking up this week's issue and flipping to the gossip page. Yes, Susan had done well. The only column getting nearly as much mail was the Ask Abby one that she had roped Veronica into doing while Ethel was on her semester away. Surprisingly, Veronica had some really good advice. Betty frowned suddenly, wondering if Veronica was actually doing it or passing it off to someone else. Her frown eased and she shrugged, it didn't really matter did it? As long as people were picking up the paper to read it.

Her eyes moved down the column slowly. She had figured out who most of the tidbits were about, but the one about the clueless perfectionist needing to set off some fireworks with the crown prince? She just couldn't figure it out. Was the crown prince Reggie, heir to his dad's empire? Or Jughead, with the goofy hat he had been wearing for years? Or maybe someone else, with actual royal connections that she was unaware of?

And the clueless perfectionist, who could that be? And what kind of fireworks? It couldn't mean literal fireworks as it was the wrong time of year for that. Her eyebrow raised and she smirked. They must mean sexy fireworks then. The very best kind, she imagined. Her own experiences were decidedly lacklustre, but she supposed that most weren't, or there wouldn't be so many novels written about spontaneous combustion from across the room when two sets of eyes first meet.

She would like to spontaneously feel those kind of sparks one day. Or even just feel sparks at all. The biggest thrill she had had lately was when she snagged Jughead's hat with one hand and simultaneously stole fries with the other when he was distracted. How sad was it that stealing french fries from the biggest foodie in town was the only thing that had got her blood pumping recently?

The last time Polly was town, Betty had caught her staring at Jughead from the deck with her eyes narrowed. "Betty," Polly had said suddenly, "still waters run deep in that one."

Betty had wrinkled her nose up and frowned in confusion. "What does that mean?"

Polly had smirked and looked at her out of the corner of her eyes. "Let's just say I wouldn't kick him out of bed in the morning."

Betty had been shocked, and quipped, "Unless you turn into a cheeseburger at midnight you are unlikely to ever have that experience."

But Polly had shook her head and smiled, returning her eyes to where Jughead was hanging up some laundry for his mother. "One day he will look at someone like he looks at food, and if he devotes even half as much attention and determination as does finding his next snack, that person will be very lucky."

Betty tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, remembering the way Polly had sounded. Polly had always had a lot of boyfriends, she didn't have to fight over one the way Betty did. Betty didn't actually have to, but she enjoyed the plotting and planning and the victories that her friendly competition with Veronica had. It would be kind of boring, she thought, to be Archie's only girl. He was fun to be around, but kind of shallow. He would probably peak in high school, and be one of those guys reliving his glory days at school reunions in twenty years.

Jughead was another story. It would take someone very strong to get through to him, and probably a lot of effort. Something else too, since Ethel had tried everything and failed, despite her best efforts. Whoever caught Jughead's attention would have to possess that mysterious spark, to set off fireworks in his brain so loud that it would drown out the call of his stomach for dinner.

Alone at night, Betty would sometimes sneak out to their old treehouse, with her sisters long forgotten pack of cigarettes that were usually hidden in a hollow book at the bottome of her drawer and sit looking out at the water, imagining herself in one of the black and white movies she loved, as the sexy and alluring heroine, waiting for the spy to catch her and kiss her senseless. The darkness would slowly surround her, as she dangled a lit cigarette from her fingers, not even really smoking it, because she didn't like the taste, but just watching the glow for the few moments it was burning, half in her dream world. Oh, how she would love to be mysterious and sexy. Big curls, a long dark coat, spiky heels, and any guy she snapped her fingers at. But then life would interrupt, she would hear someone coming and hurriedly put out the smoke, remembering that she was Betty Cooper and she lived in Riverdale, where the only person who could truly pull off walking into Pop's in a trench coat and heels was Veronica, who of course would only ever wear a trench coat if it became the next big thing. Maybe one day she would live somewhere else, where nobody knew her, but she would miss Riverdale. Truthfully, she only wanted to be mysterious, because nobody would suspect it. It would probably be just as boring to be mysterious all the time as it was to be the town Mary Poppins; Practically Perfect in Every Way. Maybe she ask Jughead one day, he was the most mysterious person in town after all. How did he always know where food was to be found, or exactly when the cookies she was baking would be done? What did he actually do when he wasn't eating or playing video games? How did he manage to get such good grades, when he mostly slept through class?

Shaking her head resolutely, Betty lowered her fingers back to the keys and put her thoughts toward the work she was supposed to be doing all along.


	2. Chapter 2

Jughead threw down the paper in disgust, and promptly put his burger on top of it, hoping some of the grease would distort the damned gossip column. He should have known Joanie had been talking to Susan, the gossip queen. Susan was the only one interested in everyone else's business enough to go around asking such questions as whether or not Jughead liked girls or anyone for that matter. It almost put him off his lunch, having such a thinly veiled clue out there for everyone to read like that. He wondered what would happen if he stopped wearing his hat. Crown Prince indeed. He snorted.

"Hi Jughead, What's up? Not hungry?" Betty slid into the booth opposite him, not a hair out of place as usual, despite her busy schedule meaning she had most likely just come from track practice.

Quickly Jughead moved his fries closer to himself, guarding them from her devious methods of fry theft. She moved a hand towards his burger and he quickly grabbed that precious item instead, not realizing she had snitched a fry at the same time until he looked up and noticed her chewing on it happily. "Do you never buy your own fries?" He muttered crankily. Her face fell, and he kicked himself instantly. It wasn't her fault that Joanie was so observant and Susan so nosy. "Sorry. I'm not myself today." He offered, pushing the fries towards her slightly. "I probably won't eat all this anyway, help yourself."

Betty's mouth dropped open in shock. "Are you sick? Juggie, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine, just thinking about other things." He shrugged in response. Like fireworks. And people noticing that he noticed when Betty was looking particularly good. Or Rumpled. He did like seeing her rumpled although it rarely happened. Like on Friday, when she had worn one of her dad's old shirts after school and it had repeatedly slipped down her shoulder exposing her bra strap and the smudge of automobile fluid on her collar bone from one of the many times she tried to pull it back up while tinkering on the car. Friday had been a good day. He had helped her by holding the tools, and she had offered him brownies after, just like old times. When they were little, thankful baking had always been accompanied by a kiss on the cheek, which he pretended to hate but actually missed once it stopped happening. His face flushed at the memories and he quickly stood up, grabbing his backpack and the burger. "I should go, see you around. Enjoy the fries."

She watched him leave with raised eyebrows, her mouth ajar. Jughead never left food on the table. Ever. Did she smell? Betty surreptitiously smelled in the area of her armpits, wondering if her athletic endeavours had overpowered her deodorant, but no, she smelled like Secret same as always. Why then had he left so suddenly, and with such a strange look on his face? Her eyes drifted from his retreating back and down to the greasy newspaper still sitting on the table, open to the page with the gossip column.

"Hello Betty," Ethel slid into Jughead's spot and plunked her elbows on the table with her hands folded under her jaw. "That didn't look like fireworks to me." She wiggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Now that it's out," she continued, "you really should go light a firecracker under that boy's ass and initiate him into the teenage world of raging hormones and midnight kisses, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure what you are talking about." Betty frowned. "Jughead isn't feeling himself today, but I doubt it has anything to do with hormones."

Ethel pointed at the grease spot and rolled her eyes. "Betty, now is not the time to become suddenly dense, although I suppose you have been rather clueless... Odd for someone with the knack of investigative work that you have."

Pursing her lips, Betty stared at Ethel, then pushed the remaining french fries towards her friend. "I don't like being the subject of unfounded rumours, especially those which involve someone who has been my friend as long as Jughead has." She slid out from the booth and began walking away.

"Betty," Ethel said quietly, "Maybe think on it before you choose how you are going to react to this. If it has any shred of truth, if he does like you, you could hurt him."

Betty paused and looked over her shoulder at Ethel.

"To be honest, I'm hoping it's true." Ethel continued. "I would rather have failed because he was waiting for you, then because he just doesn't like me, even though I know that is also true." She smiled sadly. "I do want him to be happy though you know. He deserves to be happy.. Nobody is saying you have to proposition him in the middle of the cafeteria"

Betty nodded briefly, turned on her heel and continued out of the diner, her thoughts whirling. Did Jughead like her, more than he let on? Was he capable of a relationship with something he couldn't eat? For that matter, was she capable of a relationship that she didn't have to fight for? And what did Ethel mean? Was she insinuating that Betty should have a secret relationship with Jughead? Her pulse raced suddenly. Would that be fair to Jughead? But what if he agreed? He did like his privacy. Maybe just until they decided what they really wanted? She had a sudden image flash into her head, her grabbing Jughead by the shirt and pulling him into a deserted classroom, locking the door and throwing her arms around him, her lips against his, his ridiculous hat falling to the floor...

The street was pretty deserted, which was good, because Betty was lost in her thoughts all the way home. She could screw up their friendship forever, based on a rumour. Or maybe, just maybe, she could experience those elusive sparks she had read about. Did she even like Jughead that way?

It was true that she always felt happier in his presence. He was cute, she had always known that. His hair, waving softly just above his eyes, made her fingers itch with the need to rumple it. His smile was infectious when he bothered to use it. More than once she had admired his body from under her eyelashes at the beach, as he carefully built sandcastles that they both knew she would wreck long before the waves did. Suddenly sadness hit her in the gut, as she realized she actually had been pretty clueless. He was always doing nice things for her, thinking of her. While she hadn't taken him for granted, she also hadn't paused to wonder why. What if he had moved on, and she had never known he was ever there for her taking?

Firmly, she nodded, she was going to have to do something. But what? Slather herself in ketchup?

#############

It was late friday night, but Jughead wasn't in the mood for dealing with people. He turned off his phone, and made his way to the only place he knew nobody would be, his favourite place that didn't serve food or beverages. The tree house was a symbol of easier times for him. He was pretty sure Archie never thought of it anymore, most girls wouldn't climb up there to fool around, and Archie was all about the girls.

Betty probably would have climbed up there, but she liked to be out in public with Archie, so people could see that she had won, for that night anyway. There was always a dance or a band playing somewhere, never a reason to just go hide from the world.

Although someone had been visiting the tree house lately, and he was pretty sure it wasn't a kid. He had seen the glowing ember of a cigarette from below once or twice, though he didn't know anyone that smoked except for Betty's sister, who really only did it to piss off her mother, and only when her brother wasn't around to hunt down the person who sold them to her and charge them with some kind of federal crime. He smirked, Chic didn't come to town often, but it was always fun when he did.

He glanced up as he neared the tree house, relieved to see that tonight wasn't a night that he would have to wait on a distant bench until the coast was clear and the tree house empty again. Easily he climbed the rotting ladder, pushing his backpack in to the small interior before turning to let his legs dangle over the side. Taking a deep breath, wondering what kind of shit show his life was going to become, and simultaneously wondering if donuts would be a good base for a sundae, he sat watching the birds fly and the sun slowly start to set.


End file.
